


This Love was Secret But I Kept It

by thatdragonchic



Category: Eyewitness (US TV)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Period Typical Attitudes, Period-Typical Homophobia, Period-Typical Racism, Philkas - Freeform, Secret Relationship, Smut Eventually, Waldenshea, but nobody knows, idk - Freeform, in theory anyways, sheadenbeck, theyre in love, this is mostly them being cute, this takes place in 1900/1901
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-03
Updated: 2016-12-24
Packaged: 2018-09-06 07:23:02
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,390
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8740213
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thatdragonchic/pseuds/thatdragonchic
Summary: After Bo dies, Lukas faces the devestation with a cold front, but Philip stands with a hand on his shoulder. "Wouldn't you ever like to live here?" and that's how the next chapter of their story really begins-multi-chapter period piece for Philip Shea and Lukas Waldenbeck starting in October of 1900





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I really hope you guys like this! Its something creative and different that I thought of and wanted to share! Please leave your thoughts in the comments or shoot me an ask on tumblr (waldenbeckboys.tumblr.com) and tell what you think!

Philip surveys the scene with interest, watching with solemn eyes, landing on a frail and small looking Lukas. He accepts the grievances and Philip picks up a tray beside one of the servants. He decides it’s better to be helpful than to stand by and watch with grievances and soft words about a man Philip had never loved.  _ Radical  _ and  _ Bastard  _ were often tied to Philip in Bo’s vocabulary, he felt no real grievance for the man. Not the way he treated Lukas, but for Lukas, Philip felt a great deal of grief for him. This was never the life Lukas wanted, but yet, he was stuck with it. Stuck with this impending duty of caring for the farm, of working sun up to sundown, to maybe marrying a woman or living in isolation for the rest of his life. 

And all their plans, out the window. “Good evening,” Philip softly greets one of the guest, and the man smiles.

“Working help then?” he asks. 

“Not paid. Better we carry him through than not.”

“A true pal you are. You carry that boy Lukas through it all. Have you been working on your business lately?” The man asks, taking a drink.

“Yes, I’ve been making quite the few improvements, but this is all business- we’re not here for Business.”

“Surely Mr. Shea. What happens now?”

“Here in this room? We sit in silence and hang the viel over the eyes.”

“Smart young man. I have a daughter if you’re looking for one.”

“If I am to be honest, my eyes are set on somebody.” He can’t help that his eyes drift off towards Lukas and the man scoffs. 

“How long will you go on like this? Youth dies and then you regret you didn’t marry when you could have.”

“Forever young,” Philip says. 

“Go get him a drink. Twenty years old and he’s all alone in this world.”

“We all are.”

“You though, are destined for the greatest of destinies.” 

“Only under circumstances.”

The man nods and let’s him go, baring an almost painful smile and Philip kneels beside Lukas. “Water? Milk?”

“My friends are not my help.”

“Take a drink Lukas, you’re paler than usual- any worse and you’ll disappear wholly. We’ll be seeing garments floating with no man in tending to them. An illusive trick of devil.”

“What would you know about the devil?”

“Him and I are close companions.”

“Oh surely.”

“Take a drink.”

“Will you stay late? I need a comrade in arms.”

“In arms, rarely, but a friend, surely.”

Lukas nods. “Will you stay then?”

“Of course.”

 

The shades were drawn at Eleven PM, or what Philip was assuming was Eleven PM from how high the moon was. Perhaps it was evenly midnight, or just past or just before. There was no telling the time as he glanced at the walls. Each clock was stopped at the time of death and if not stopped then wound to that time- or so the time he was found. Forever locked on the time of eight. 

Philip feels so unsettled as he walks past the coffin, the top half open on the dressed man, parted lips, pale and bloating in a suit. “Can we close it?” He calls into the house. “It’s scaring me.”

Lukas makes his way from the kitchen and stands beside Philip. “He looks peaceful.”

“He looks angry. And good god, who’d you hire for his hair?”

“Philip, he’s dead.”

“He always found ways to scare me. The malice of this man to haunt me the rest of my life. He’s truly dedicated.”

Lukas laughs slightly. “How morbid a thought.”

“Lest you at least look upset,  _ please _ , Lukas. The man is dead.”

“I feel awfully sorry, but good as dead is he.” 

Philip watches with a tilted head. “Don’t say that, his soul lay over his body and he’s glaring. He’s seething. I’ll be dead by morrow and so will you.”

“Why? He doesn’t know a thing. He might not even be listening. He could be walking freely, gone to see John down the street because he’s the son my father always wished I was.”

“John wasn’t here tonight.”

“He was here early in the day.”

“Ah… Now can we close it? Put the damn thing to bed, I can’t stare death so close in the face anymore.”

“You lived in the slums.”

“And now I live in a nice city apartment in a skyscraper. Have you ever heard of such luxury? The water is clean and my baths are warm and the air is fresher.”

“The air is even fresher here and a river isn’t far. A big one in fact. There’s a great view of the boats and the hills make great for picnics.”

“I suppose,” Philip agrees.

“Would you ever like to live here?”

“Pardon?” Philip asks looking at him. 

“Would you ever like to live here? Like with me.”

Philip laughs. “What about work? My-”

“The transit isn’t far and it’s cheaper here to get to and from… Philip I don’t want to be alone.”

“I… I don’t know Lukas. I would have to pick the best routes- I would have to be up earlier, maybe I’ll be out later-”

“And at the end of the day you’ll still be here and I will be too. Who would ever know?”

“The speculation would be endless.”

“Sure but who’s business is it?”

“I don’t know Lukas… I just… is this something you want?”

“It is.”

Philip jumps when he hears a chair fall and looks towards the kitchen. “I swear to god, Lukas Waldenbeck I thought your father was rolling over in his grave. Close the damn thing.”

Lukas bursts out laughing but Philip is livid. “Alright we can close the casket,” Lukas says, softly shutting the lid of the casket over his dead father. He wonders how people could stand to kiss the heads of corpses, it was so tainted and frightening. Lukas wondered if maybe he could take a second and pretend his father loved him, that it would mean something if he kissed the head of his corpse- as if wishing him will. But he just didn’t feel like it was that important. He shuts it and Philip takes his hand.

“You were so quiet today,” he says. “What’s going on in your head?”

“I don’t feel sad, and that makes me sadder than I’ve ever been.”

“Oh darling…” Philip leans his forehead to Lukas’. “My precious that’s alright.”

Lukas nods and kisses Philip’s lips lightly. “So what do you say?”

“I refuse to be anywhere near this house while that body is still here.”

“You can move in after the burial.”  

“I don’t know if I can move in at all, it’s all so sudden.”

“Take your time, then.”

Philip rests his head on Lukas’ shoulder. “It’s not that I don’t want to. I just like to have plans for things. I like to think ahead.”

“Certainly… I’m asking much under emotional compromise.”

“We are human, asking much is our specialty… Listen tonight I’ll go home and I’ll be back by morning. I’ll telegraph if anything. We can talk over breakfast and work out a plan. Alright?”

“Really you don’t have to turn your life upside down for me.”

“I do,” Philip asserts softly, kissing Lukas’ lips soft and slow and sweet. “I do and I will and you will think nothing of it. Besides the air is fresher and the water is warmer and the sun shines brighter and you could see every star in the sky.”

“Do you think the final train has left yet? I haven’t heard it’s rattling.”

“Well it wouldn’t hurt to check…” Philip glances outside towards the shielded window. He slowly makes his way over and gently parts to the curtain aside, glancing out. “Perhaps I’ll stay. I’ll take the guest room.”

“My room is always open to your succession.”

“Proudly so. Well we ought’a get to bed, the burial is tomorrow and I doubt you’d like to miss it.”

“I just don’t believe he’s gone. It feels like he’ll still walk through the door.”

“Well look, he’s lying there and he sure as hell isn’t getting up. Now we ought’a sleep.” 

  
  


The morning shown but light could reflect off of few surfaces. The tables, the curtains, the mirrors, all covered with black. There was nothing to show for but solemn mourning and yes, Philip never was keen on the man, but god was it depressing. He moves down the stairs from the bed, buttoning up his shirt, hair fresh from the shower and he accepts the paper from one of the boys. He sits down and flips it open.  _ McKinley taking the lead for president.  _ Philip smiled. He found the man likable, he didn’t see any reason Bryans should win when a second term for a great man lay before them. In just a month all would turn out, and he thinks maybe one day he should attend a rally, or perhaps, he would register to vote this year- the ballots were secret now after all and he was finally 2 years older than the consented age to vote. It was his first election at Legal age. 

And what a power it was to have, to be able to choose. The voice one gave was stronger than all else, he learned with time that it was the power that this country gave them that no other had. Voting was the most important societal voice, he cast his voice, he gave his choice. And if he didn’t cast his vote, he showed he had no care where things went, that he had no voice. The most important things in life were having a voice.

He flips through the paper, eyes scanning as a young woman pours him a cup of coffee and sets it before him. Her dress is black and she watches him. “Mr. Lukas isn’t much kind on others.”

“Him and I were always the closest of friends, since we were young really.”

“Dare say it, you whisper in such fine soft voices.”

“The kinder you on your friends, the better you are to treat your eternal with.”

“If you’d ever have one.”

“And why not? Have you any keen interest?” He asks her and she blushes wildly, tucking her hair behind her ear and looking slightly angered, but he can see more than anything she’s abashed.

“I don’t need your tidings. And what about you then? What keen interests have you?”

“Well perhaps I’ve a girl or two set in mind, they’re lovely ladies of a modest middle class prestige that would dedicate all their time to the DAR and to the social reforms of the time. It’s only adequate and only humble.” He says it as if it’s his dream, but his underlying tone is all but mocking. He never wanted it, to settled down with a flowncy dress at his side.

“It’s everyone’s dream… to be the middle class.”

“Assumably not yours though?”

“I like where I am Mister- pardon me, what’s your name again?”

“Philip Shea.”

“Mr. Waldenbeck isn’t very kind of you.”

“Well he’s dead now.”

“He used to speak fowl on your name.”

“And those who banish others are seen the worst by god.”

“You’re not very optimistic sir.”

Philip laughs. “Sorry, it hasn’t been a good awakening. This house feels so cold… and there’s something so dreary about all black tarping a home.”

The girl nods sympathetically and Philip smiles slightly before sipping at his coffee. He wants to flee, run off to the warm hustle and bustle of the city, the privacy of his lab office with a fireplace or two in tote, lit to warm the room and fuel his doings. The electric lights would go on, the world would spin and he would be who he was meant to be- solely that of a photographer. He knew better though, he didn’t want to leave Lukas alone when his world was falling to pieces, their plans were collapsing to the ground. 

He hears the stairs creak and he puts his cup down, moves to go greet Lukas who smiles softly at him, but it’s so cold and insincere. Philip wishes he could kiss Lukas but he almost fears of the girl in the kitchen. What power people held over them, instead he just smiles. “We bury our dues today.”

“His last day on earth…”

Philip nod's.

“Any idea what the time might be?”

“It’s about nine, I just heard the second train pull in and the second train comes at nine.”

Lukas nods. “Trains, a blessing and a curse.”

“More blessing than curse. Had I not come to Red Hook for college at seventeen I’d never met you, my precious darling.”

Lukas melts, and a genuine smile blooms on his feature. But the softness that awakes then fades quickly as they are soon greeting guests and serving breakfast, coffee, light drinks and water and juices. The farm goes on but without Lukas’ aid, he tries his best to seem broken and devastated, as so many men are. Yet he just can’t bring himself to cry like his father’s companions, or John, the boy from next door. He sees Philip talking with a boy named Tommy and they get along so well. They sit on a couch in a corner of the room, whispering amongst each other as good friends do, hardly disturbed or woken from their conversation. Whatever it was, it had to be riveting, Philip was rarely one to be held to such high interests. 

Yet there they were and Lukas wondered, every time he looked over what they were so warped in talking about. Why Philip seemed so soft about the whole damn thing. And when it was time to go, they carried the casket to the carriage, then drove over to the cemetery. Lukas seemed to be distraught, he lay his father down and it was so subtly there, just the empty sadness that lay over his straight face. ‘Strong’ was what they called it. But he was so empty- he couldn’t bring himself to care as much as he wanted. Their loveless, cold shouldered relationship did this to him. It left him barren and empty when he died. He feels Philip squeeze his shoulder and he shakes his head.

“I’m so sorry… it shouldn’t be this way.”

“You’ll do better one day.”

“Good god I hope so…”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Philip is settling into the house

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've finally come around to writing again! It's been a long few weeks but here it is. Took a few days to write, I haven't edited much of it. So it is as it was.   
> Enjoy and leave feedback please!

Philip moves into Tivoli on an engaging Saturday Afternoon. He decided, with his landlord, that he’d pay a vacation house rent to keep it and only moves those sparse few things that he would require while living with the other man. It would be a nice place to get away from all the hustle and bustle, but his own apartment way up high was nice too. Therefore he kept it, at least for vacations and for getaways when it so called for it. 

Though he sets his few things- a couple suits, undergarments, shaving materials, hair products, tools for his camera’s and his pencils and his other designing equipment, the camera’s he owned themselves, were set in the guest room. Appealing to the allusion that he lived in and breathed in a separate space, foregoing the idea that he and Lukas lived anywhere near each other or around each other. They were two separate, wholly intricate men with no speculation to surround them, solely on the notion that Philip had his own space. Space materialistically defined as his. Idealistically made to throw off the notion of others.

He sets in and Lukas is just behind him, the morning early and he was yet to be genuinely needed. “You’ll be okay?”

“Sure, yeah. I’ll do fine. I might be tinkering on the table, you don’t mind much do you? Get familiar with the property at some point. Maybe I’ll come to watch you work?”

“A coy suggestion but I’ll pass on your part taking.”

Philip laughs. “Then after dinner tonight you and I shall disappear behind the locked doors of the attic study, and say we shall pursue something more worthy of your interest?”

“More worthy of my interest…?”

Philip tilts his head down a bit looking up at Lukas coyly through batted lashes. “You know.”

“Do I?”

“Don’t tease.”

“You gonna stop me?”

“Well ask again later tonight and we’ll find out to see.”

“In the study?”

“Yes.”

“And why not my bedroom?”

“Books and desk… so much more exciting.”

“Jesus Christ in the heaven above. I’m going to work now,” Lukas decides, turning away from him and Philip laughs out.

“Alright then! I’ll put on my best dress and garters for you!”

“Posh! You’re  _ full of it!”  _

Philip laughs as he watches him go. “And I always will be, you’re stuck Mr. Waldenbeck!” he calls tauntingly, smiling as Lukas turns at the steps only to send him a look, Philip nodding and waving him off. “Dinner then?”

“Dinner, of course.”

 

Philip remained on the porch, toying with the light and the fixtures as he took still life portraits of the nature around him. He wonders if there would ever be camera’s that could process the natural brilliance of the light, he feels that these just did such a poor job of doing so. He wonders, in all truth, if perhaps there was a better way. Another way that could do the trick. He’s so wrapped up, he barely even hears Philip approaching up the back steps to reach the house for dinner that night, wash up in the bath before it was served and dress in a nicer attire for dinner. The steps creak and Lukas notes that Philip doesn’t look up once.

“Not even a hello, are you? Nobody saw you on the farm.”

Philip startles slightly, looking up before beaming. “What are you doing here, can’t be much past noon?”

“It’s a quarter to sick, Philip.”

“A quarter to six? Why I haven’t gotten anything done! Well… I’ve done it a lot of thinking but I was going to look around and take a walk and then go see you and make fun of you and your working ways.”

“What have you been up to that’s got you so focused?”

“Well I was just thinking about the light fixtures and how it affects the pictures I’m taking and well… I was just toying around with it. I haven’t done any real tinkering yet.”

“Any ideas?”

“A few. Anyhow how was your day?”

“Exhausting.”

“Sorry love. We can wind down over a nice dinner and coffee if it suits you.”

“Oh  _ shit _ -”

“Watch your mouth, Jesus Lukas.”

“We don’t have coffee left. It all went to the funeral.”

“Well then you and I can just run to the market square, what time are they open until?”

“There’s a coffee shop down there that closes at nine. We can go after dinner and get coffee there. For once we would have a place that runs in real time.”

“Are we running under illusives here?”

“It all feels frozen, like nothing is moving. Everything’s black and covered and dim. The clocks don’t move, and it makes it feel like the world doesn’t spin.”

“Well just barely,” Philip offers.

“Coffee after dinner then?”

“Well past five.”

  
  


Well past five it became, around 7.30 they trailed into the coffee shop, petit as it was, and settled at a table. A server came by with a round pot and Philip smiled kindly as a man could ever be. His smile resembled the softness of a father, and the tenderness of a husband who looked fondly at his wife or thence there lover, and his eyes were the depths of the ocean and space all at once. There was a never ending abyss of dark brown that matched tousled hair, the surface of waves that fell over his ocean eyes. 

He had long discarded his Jacket along the way, even if it should be mid october by now, he said the cold really never bothered him. Lukas could hardly imagine why, living in the decay of city life, deep in the slums was rarely a commodity of choice. His cufflinks shine in the twinkling light above their heads. 

“Electrical,” Lukas points out. “That’s new.”

“The modern age rises beneath our feet, the tides are changing,” Philip seems to only begin. “Look at how they twinkle, and one day in the near future this light is the only light we should know. There will be no more candles, or gas lights. In fact, we would have cars all over and bicycles too. Cars and Bicycles and long winds of trains that never end. Shuttle to shuttle. The age before us is so different now and we progress with such timeliness.”

“How do you see things so brightly? What if they burn or fuse?”

“Man is rarely a perfectionist, and no matter the perfection, only god reaches un-faultiness.” 

“You’re so full of it.”

“Perhaps.”

“Do you even  _ believe _ in god philip?”

“Why… I believe in everything,” Philip decides with such ease, smiling up at the lights. “I believe in all that there is to believe in. Everything is possible, isn’t it? If men can love other men and lights can appear with the flick of a switch, if science could be endless and transportation can be as simple as carting a train or headaches gone with the test of a pill- then really, what is there not to believe in? It’s archaic to not believe in all that there is to believe in.”

“So you believe everything?”

“Everything. It’s wholly possible that a God exists and equally so that more exist, or perhaps it’s even more likely we all go to heaven or hell or nothing in the end. All life ends and then what happens? I refuse to believe it is all a vast rupture of nothing.”

“You have a lot to say today. Thinking does a lot to you.”

“I always have a lot to say, it’s just a matter if you’re listening,” Philip quips, pouring his cup to the brim and then with no added sugar nor cream, he sips at the thick, black coffee steaming from the cup.

“How can you stand it like that?”

“How can you stand tea?”

“Tea is a preferable choice.”

“If I wanted tea I’d move to England.”

“Why is that?”

“We’re American’s we don’t drink tea.”

“Sure we do. We’re free as any, we drink what we want because we can.”

“We dumped our tea in the harbor, it’s unamerican- I should report you.”

“Report me for what?”

“Being unamerican.”

“For drinking tea?”

“Yes, it’s unamerican.”

“Overdramatic,” Lukas sighs. 

John enters the shop, his eyes settle on Lukas and he makes his way over with some sort of languished conviction- Philip restrains rolling his eyes. As if the black could shield them from worldly affairs, they were out in the open and of all people, the obnoxious show with their faux condolensces and such and such. 

“Lukas Waldenbeck, you’re still here and still breathing.”

“What else would I be doing?” Lukas asks confused.

John seems to want to scoff but it just barely passes as Philip watches him with an intent stare, he ought’a watch where he takes this. John get’s the hint and directs his attention to Philip.

“Who might you be?”

“Brother in arms, fought the Spanish-American with Lukas.”

“Pardon? Lukas never done any reserve on no war.”

“I’d like to ask you to repeat in English.”

“Lukas served no war, does that suit you slicker?”

“Sure he did, we fought behind Teddy himself.”

“Scuse me?”

“The Vice President.”

“You going around calling an authority like that? Who raised you? The pigs?”

“No, we ate the pigs for dinner. I was raised by the wolves just out yonder.”

“Get the doctor, Lukas. Y’er slicker friend here is crazy.”

“He’s never done wrong, John. He’s just messing with you,” Lukas insists, nudging Philip’s leg under the table with the toe of his shoe. 

“He’s crazy. Fought a war my ass.”

“Don’t go getting yourself tied in knots Mr. John Sir,” Philip practically mocks. “Is there any purpose for you disrupting our sitting?”

“Is there any reason you two should be sitting? You even dress like a pomp of circumstance from the city.”

“A what now? Dear that’s no phrase. The phrase is  _ Pomp Or Circumstance _ pertaining to the nature of a situation, or rather the defining theme of rejoice and fuss. If you’re suggesting I’m something for your body to rejoice about, then you’re sure as hell right. I’m a handsome man. Brides out the door-”

“Why- you  _ were  _ raised by pigs!”

“ _ Wolves _ , I told you  _ wolves _ . I was raised by the alpha himself even.” 

“How dare you disrespect me like this!”

“Who are you to be of any rank of respect?” Philip finally decides.

“That’s enough,” Lukas announces. “Both of you are acting like children. Quit it.”

John looks to Lukas, who spares him just barely a glance before looking to Philip, telling him to stop it. Philip reclines in his chair. 

“Perhaps we ought’a take the pot to go home, Lukas,” Philip says. “You’re unwell, this is improper after a funeral.” 

“Sure thing.”

They ring the bell on the table and the waiter comes over. “A pitcher to go please? We must be off. I’ll tip you well.”

“Yes of course.”

“Homo,” John accuses dirtily before walking off and Philip offers no retaliation. If he did, it would have been a solid knock up the jaw and John would’ve went flying. Lukas would have dragged him off home and never spoken to him again. 

Philip let’s him go and they take the pitcher home where Philip sits in peace under the very dim lamp light on the arm chair in the corner of the living room with a thick book that he’s barely a quarter through. Lukas trails in eventually and sits on the arm of the chair.

“Do you insist on pesking people?”

“He’s no fun, it’s not my fault. I was just having good fun.”

Lukas rolls his eyes and then lifts Philip’s chin (gently) to look at him. He locks their eyes. “Don’t go getting in no good sorts of trouble.”

“Yeah sure, I won’t make any promises though.”


End file.
